


assume makes ass for u and me

by prettywellfunded



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Consent Play, Fade To Black Sex (sorry), M/M, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettywellfunded/pseuds/prettywellfunded
Summary: In Tony’s defense, he was sure the kid was a rent boy.





	assume makes ass for u and me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://pretty-well-funded.tumblr.com/post/184331956092/monalisa72-replied-to-your-post-is-this-thing) in response to monalisa72's prompt: Newbie rentboy Peter who keeps getting saved from abusive johns by Iron Man who eventually becomes his sugar daddy to keep him off the streets
> 
> original a/n: well, this is literally the opposite of what you asked for, but hopefully you like it anyway? Lol
> 
> That's rapidly becoming a theme, right? me butchering the direction of people's prompts? O_O also, I apologize for the incredibly punny title, but it made me snicker

In Tony’s defense, he was sure the kid was a rent boy. 

Now, normally Tony doesn’t brake for street crime – there are others out there without highly advanced terrorism- and alien-fighting prostheses to handle that kind of thing. The blind lawyer, the bulletproof bar owner, that PI in desperate need of antidepressants. The guy in the onesie.

Still, if he’s in the right place at the right time, he’s not exactly going to _fly away_ and leave someone to get hurt.

He’s on his way back from a rather lightweight peacekeeping mission when FRIDAY alerts him to a probable minor being choked below. As soon as Tony gets close, he sees she may have misinterpreted the data – her algorithms for human behavior aren’t as sophisticated as JARVIS’s were, though she’ll get there in time – but when he asks her to estimate the kid’s age, FRI says 17. And well, her physical assessment algorithms are just fine.

It turns out landing in an Iron Man suit ten feet away is enough intervention in itself to scare off rough johns of underage prostitutes, because Tony hasn’t even engaged his speakers before the guy’s tripping on his pants and running. The kid wipes his mouth with wide eyes and scrambles to his feet.

“Uh, wow. Hi.”

“Look, kid, everybody’s got to make a living, blah blah blah, sex positivity, wrap it before they tap it and try not to end up in a dumpster, capiche?”

The kid opens his mouth, frowning, but this was already a waste of time and Tony is exhausted. He’s engaging his thrusters before the kid can speak.

*

The second time, he’s just enjoying a little evening joyride, because he does what he wants, when FRI says, “Boss, someone is crying for help three blocks south. I think he’s being assaulted.”

So, of fucking course, Tony goes.

This time it’s unclear it’s a false alarm until Tony has landed right behind the purported bad guy and yanked him away from the victim he’s got pinned to the bricks. Said victim turns his head, and Tony groans. “You again.”

“You should talk. You’re turning into a serious cockblock, Mr. Stark.”

Tony turns to the guy he’s dangling a couple inches off the ground. “Listen, pal, some solid advice: stop hiring hookers. Or at the very _least_ , card them first, huh?”

The guy nods agreeably, and when Tony lets him go, he only pauses to give the kid one miffed look before skedaddling away.

Once he’s gone, Tony lets the helmet retract so he can look at the kid directly. “Didn’t we have a conversation about dumpsters?”

"There’s a little thing called ‘roleplay,’ Mr. Stark. They may not have invented it yet in your day, but – "

Tony _will not laugh_. Obviously the kid’s fine. He puts the top up and takes off.

*

After that…well, okay, after that, Tony’s curious. So he might have FRIDAY monitor for any signs of the kid’s _activity_ in his neighborhood – the two incidents he saw were only blocks apart in Queens, stands to reason that’s his stomping grounds.

The boy’s not on the streets as often as he’d have assumed – probably not a street kid, then, whose only source of income is hooking. Maybe an in-case-of-emergency-need deal. Still, it’s weird then that he deals in mostly rough trade – every time FRI alerts him, the kid is getting choked or smacked, etcetera. 

He doesn’t intervene. Either the kid is one hell of an actor or he’s usually pretty into it, which maybe explains the gig, even if it is part time.  
   
There does come a night, though, where the Baby Monitor goes off and Tony quickly realizes that the kid is in over his head. He’s bruised to hell, for one, and Tony’s suiting up as soon as he sees the hand wrapped around the kid’s throat, which is squeezing. Tony unfortunately knows what being manually strangled to death sounds like, and this is it.

It takes two minutes and fifteen seconds, which feels way too fucking long but when he arrives, the kid’s brain function is still intact. Apparently this is less of a first-degree murder situation and more manslaughter-waiting-to-happen. 

Maybe not even that, because the kid easily shoves the other guy aside, and yells, “Okay, seriously, are you stalking me now? This can’t be a coincidence.”

Well, he isn’t admitting _that_. “No, dear. It just seemed like a lovely night for breathplay, so naturally I assumed you’d be out and about.”

The other guy backs away slowly then flees, and the kid makes an exasperated noise, pointing after him. "Is that the actual best use of your vast resources?"

“My resources are vast enough to account for pet projects, yeah.”

“So you _are_ watching me.”

“Hey look, Mysterious Skin, a death wish is overrated, trust me. When it gets down to the wire, you’ll regret that you let it get that far. Been there.”

The kid squints. “Okay, I’m going to tell you a secret that you can’t share, but first you’re climbing out of that thing because my neck hurts.”

What the hell, Tony’s at least 30% intrigued. He’s done more for less. The kid’s eyes widen a little when he sees what Tony’s wearing beneath the suit, which is to say a filthy tank top, a lot of engine grease, and sweatpants. Sometimes when he’s in the lab, he skips underwear, sue him.

Tony lets the little moment of lust pass (he’s used to it), and eventually prompts, “Do I have to pinky swear, or what?”

The kid looks appropriately embarrassed and turns to eye the suit. “Your friend can tell there’s no one nearby, right?”

"The perimeter is clear," FRIDAY confirms through the speaker. "No witnesses with line of sight into the alley." 

“Thanks,” the kid says, and then just casually lifts a whole-ass dumpster over his head.

Tony’s jaw drops.

The kid sets the dumpster carefully back down. “See? I’m fine. and if Mrs. Suit has the medical scanning capabilities that I know she must, she can tell you my black eye is healing really fast.”

“It’s true, Boss, and quite remarkable,” Baby Girl chirps.

“Thanks, Mrs. Suit Lady,” the kid beams. 

“It’s FRIDAY.”

“Okay, everybody shut up,” Tony manages. Mercifully, they do. “First of all, what’s your name.”

The kid’s jaw clenches, and then he allows, “Peter.”

“Peter. You’re the kid in the onesie.”

This abashed, the kid isn’t a superhero or a sex worker, he’s just a kid. “I’m Spider-Man,” he corrects.

“Yeah, not until we upgrade you. But that’s not relevant now. You’re not homeless, right?”

“What? No! I live with my Aunt.”

“Does she know that you hook on the side?”

“Yeah, see, I don’t know where you got this idea. It’s actually kind of not cool of you, sir. I just like sex. With men.”

Tony blinks. Yeah, the kid never admitted he was hooking. “In my defense, you have rough sex in an awful lot of alleys.”

Peter tucks his arms across his chest, defensive. “It’s what I like! And also, hello, I _live with my aunt!_ ”

“So you don’t need money.”

“We’re not _you_ , but we do okay.”

“How old are you?”

Peter’s chin goes up a notch. Stubborn, Tony likes it. “Legal.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Not why I’m asking. Seventeen?”

“Sure, which is _legal_.”

“Not to join the Avengers, it’s not.”

Now the kid’s eyes are saucers. “Are you shitting me?”

Tony’s mouth quirks. “No, I’m not shitting you. We can’t even consider it until you’re eighteen, and there’s a process of sorts, but I’ve seen some of your work. You belong on the team. Regardless, we should get you a better suit ASAP.”

The kid grins, an interesting mix of earnest and wicked. He steps closer and takes Tony’s tank top in both fists. “Mr. Stark, are you propositioning me?”

Tony’s been seduced by the best, but it’s cute. “Proposing to give you better crime fighting equipment, maybe.” 

The little shit bats his lashes. “So, not a sugar daddy. A _superhero_ sugar daddy.”

Okay, Tony can’t _not_ smile. “If you like. Better than my actual title of ‘hey you, something broke, come fix it.’”

“Aww. _I_ would appreciate you, sir.”

Tony smirks, charmed beyond what is reasonable. “I’m sure you would.”

“Although, right now you kind of owe me.” 

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmmm. By my count, at least three orgasms. But they don’t have to be mine.”

Well, shit. “Tell me more about this ‘role play’ that you spoke of.”

Peter’s eyes fucking twinkle before he plasters himself to Tony’s front and speaks extra-breathily into his ear. “You mean like I’m the poor desperate rent boy, and you’re the tech mogul _cum_ superhero who sweeps in and saves me from the very bad men?”

Fuck, Tony’s doing this, isn’t he? The kid is young, but clearly not naïve. “Something like that.”

“And I’m so grateful and so needy, and I can’t survive without you, so you take me home like a stray kitten and pet me just right.” Aaaand there’s an underage hand in Tony’s pants. Fuck it, he's doing this, and right now. “Except you’re not quite as noble as pretend to be, right, sir? So when I beg you to _hurt_ me just right, you do that, too.”

“FRIDAY, Sentry Mode, please. Keep all personnel and surveillance the hell out of here.”

Peter looks so pleased with himself, and excited underneath the coy act. He also looks criminally young, but thank god, not actually criminal. “Are we starting right here, sir? Rough sex in another filthy alley?”

“Well. I do have some making up to do, apparently.”

Peter grins, and folds to his knees. Just like a pro.


End file.
